THE LAWYER'S STATEMENT.
Lady Lanswell stood in the library at Dunmore House, her handsome face
flushed with irritation and annoyance, her fine eyes flashing fire. She
looked like one born to command; her tall, stately figure bore no signs
of age; her traveling dress of rich silk swept the ground in graceful
folds. She had not removed her mantle of rich lace; it hung from her
shoulders still; she had removed her bonnet and gloves. With one jeweled
hand resting on the table, she stood, the picture of indignation and
anger.
Lord Lanswell had sent a telegram at once, when his son left him,
begging her to come at once, as Lance had something important to tell
her.
My lady lost no time; she was far more quick and keen of judgment than
the earl. She never thought of gambling or betting, her thoughts all
went to love. It was something about a girl, she said to herself; but
she should stand no nonsense. Lance must remember what was due to his
family. If he had made any such mistake as that of falling in love with
one beneath him, then he must rectify the mistake as quickly as
possible; there could be no _mesalliance_ in a family like theirs. As
for any promise of marriage, if he had been so foolish as to make one he
must break it. A sum of money would doubtless have to be expended over
the matter, then it would be all right.
So thought my lady, and as the express drew near London she promised
herself that all would be well. Her spirits rose, her fears abated; no
son of hers would ever make a mistake so utterly absurd. There was
something of scorn in my lady's face as she entered Dunmore House. The
earl met her in the entrance hall.
"I have lost no time, as you see," she said. "What is all this nonsense,
Ross?"
He did not answer until they stood together in the library, with the
door closed, and then she repeated the words. Something in her husband's
face dismayed her.
"Speak, Ross; I dislike suspense. Tell me at once; what has the boy
done?"
"He is married," said the earl, solemnly.
"Great Heaven!" cried my lady. "Married! You cannot mean it.
Married--how--whom--when?"
"You will be dreadfully distressed," he began, slowly.
My lady stamped her foot.
"I can bear distress better than suspense. Tell me quickly, Ross, has he
disgraced himself?"
"I am afraid so," was the brief reply.
"And I loved him so--I trusted him so; it is impossible; tell me, Ross."
"He has married a farmer's niece. The girl is beautiful. I have seen no
one so beautiful; she seems to be well educated and refined. Her uncle
has a farm at Rashleigh."
"A farmer's niece," cried my lady; "you cannot possibly mean it. There
must be some mistake--the boy has been playing a practical joke on you."
"It is no joke; I only wish it were. Lance gave me the details. He was
married yesterday morning by the Reverend Mr. Barnes, at the Church of
St. Barnabas, at Oheton, a village somewhere near Rashleigh."
"Married--really and actually married," cried my lady. "I will not
believe it."
"Unhappily, it is true. He expected, I think, to make his home here; he
had no idea of leaving Dunmore House; but I told him that I could not
receive him or her."
"Her! You do not mean to say that he had the audacity to bring her here,
Ross?"
"Yes, they came together last night; but I would not receive her. I told
them plainly that you must settle the matter, as I could not."
"I should think not," said my lady, with emphasis.
"I must own, though," continued the earl, "that I was rather sorry for
Lance; he had trusted entirely to my good offices and seemed to think it
very cruel of me to refuse to plead for him."
"And the girl," said my lady, "what of her?"
"You will think I am weak and foolish, without doubt," he said, "but the
girl distressed me even more than Lance. She is beautiful enough to
arouse the admiration of the world; and she spoke so well for him."
"A farmer's niece--an underbred, forward, designing, vulgar country
girl--to be Countess of Lanswell," cried my lady, in horror.
"Nay," said the earl, "she is a farmer's niece, it is true, but she is
not vulgar."
"It is not possible that she can be presentable," said my lady. "We must
move heaven and earth to set the marriage aside."
"I had not thought of that," said the earl, simply.
Then my lady took the lace mantilla from her shoulders, and sat down at
the writing-table.
"I will send for Mr. Sewell," she said. "If any one can give us good
advice, he can."
Mr. Sewell was known as one of the finest, keenest, and cleverest
lawyers in England; he had been for more than twenty years agent for the
Lanswells of Cawdor. He knew every detail of their history, every event
that happened; and the proud countess liked him, because he was
thoroughly conservative in all his opinions. She sent for him now as a
last resource; the carriage was sent to his office, so that he might
lose no time. In less than an hour the brisk, energetic lawyer stood
before the distressed parents, listening gravely to the story of the
young heir's marriage.
"Have you seen the girl?" he asked.
"Yes, I have seen her," said the earl.
"Is she presentable?" he inquired. "Would any degree of training enable
her to take her rank----"
Lady Lanswell interrupted him.
"The question need never be asked," she said, proudly. "I refuse ever to
see her, or acknowledge her. I insist on the marriage being set aside."
"One has to be careful, my lady," said Mr. Sewell.
"I see no need for any great care," she retorted. "My son has not
studied us; we shall not study him. I would rather the entail were
destroyed, and the property go to one of Charles Seyton's sons, than my
son share it with a low-born wife."
My lady's face was inflexible. The earl and the lawyer saw that she was
resolved--that she would never give in, never yield, no matter what
appeal was made to her.
They both knew that more words were useless. My lady's mind was made up,
and they might as well fight the winds and the waves. Lord Lanswell was
more inclined to pity and to temporize. He was sorry for his son, and
the beautiful face had made some impression on him; but my lady was
inflexible.
"The marriage must be set aside," she repeated.
The earl looked at her gravely.
"Who can set aside a thoroughly legal marriage?" he asked.
"You will find out the way," said my lady, turning to Mr. Sewell.
"I can easily do that, Lady Lanswell; of course it is for you to decide;
but there is no doubt but that the marriage can easily be disputed--you
must decide. If you think the girl could be trained and taught to behave
herself--perhaps the most simple and honorable plan would be to let the
matter stand as it is, and do your best for her."
"Never!" cried my lady, proudly. "I would rather that Cawdor were burned
to the ground than to have such a person rule over it. It is useless to
waste time and words, the marriage must be set aside."
The lawyer looked from one to the other.
"There can be no difficulty whatever in setting the marriage aside,"
said Mr. Sewell. "In point of fact, I must tell you what I imagined you
would have known perfectly well."
My lady looked at him with redoubled interest.
"What is that?" she asked, quickly.
The earl listened with the greatest attention.
"It is simply this, Lady Lanswell, that the marriage is no marriage;
Lord Chandos is under age--he cannot marry without your consent; any
marriage that he contracts without your consent is illegal and
invalid--no marriage at all--the law does not recognize it."
"Is that the English law?" asked Lady Lanswell.
"Yes, the marriage of a minor, like your son, without the consent of his
parents, is no marriage; the law utterly ignores it. The remedy lies,
therefore, in your own hands."
Husband and wife looked at each other; it was a desperate chance, a
desperate remedy. For one moment each thought of the sanctity of the
marriage tie, and all that was involved in the breaking of it. Each
thought how terribly their only son must suffer if this law was
enforced.
Then my lady's face hardened and the earl knew what was to follow.
"It remains for us, then, Mr. Sewell," she said, "to take the needful
steps."
"Yes, you must make an appeal to the High Court, and the marriage will
be at once set aside," said Mr. Sewell. "It is a terrible thing for the
young wife, though."
"She should have had more sense than to have married my son," cried my
lady. "I have pity for my son--none for her."
"I think it would be more fair to tell Lord Chandos what you intend
doing," said Mr. Sewell. "Not that he could make either resistance or
defense--the law is absolute."
"What will the end be?" asked my lady.
"The marriage will be declared null and void; they will be compelled to
separate now; but again he has the remedy in his own hand. If he chooses
to remain true and constant to her, the very next day after he becomes
of age he can remarry her, and then she becomes his lawful wife; if he
forgets her the only remedy for her would be money compensation."
"It shall be the business of my life to see that he does forget her,"
said my lady.
"You can commence proceedings at once," said Mr. Sewell. "You can file
your petition to-morrow."
"It will make the whole matter public," hesitated my lady.
"Yes, that is the one drawback. After all it does not matter," said Mr.
Sewell, "many young men make simpletons of themselves in the same way.
People do not pay much attention."
Lord Lanswell looked at his wife's handsome, inflexible face.
"It is a desperate thing to do, Lucia," he said, "for Lance loves her
very dearly."
"It was a desperate action on his part to marry without consulting us,"
said my lady.
"He will be of age next June," said the earl, "do you think that he will
be true to her?"
"No," said the countess, proudly. "I can safely pledge you my word that
he will not."